


Workplace Distraction

by CaptainNinapants



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4223913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNinapants/pseuds/CaptainNinapants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't help but call Owen out for wearing what seems to be impossibly tight shirts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Workplace Distraction

“One of these days, Owen, someone is going to write you up for indecency.” You stated while standing in line for lunch. He stood in front of you, plastic blue tray in his hands as the lunch lady scooped up what seemed to be a bowl of hot mush.

“You know, I thought that my days of questionable cafeteria food were over.” He said, looking down disappointedly at the bowl she had placed onto his tray. “Anyways, why am I going to get written up?”

You nodded your thanks at the lunch lady after she put your own bowl of stew on your tray. “I don't think you have any clothing that fits you. Like, the shirt I put on this morning was actually yours, just stretched out. Also your pants, like, how can you move?” 

“So that’s where my shirts have been going.” He suddenly realized, forgetting your question as you followed him to a seat at one of the lunch tables. “I’ve been missing a whole bunch of shirts lately, like going through them all twice as fast. But really, they fit you?” 

You nodded your head, putting your water bottle on the table before gesturing to your torso. “Your shirt. I put it on this morning by accident because I couldn’t tell if it was mine or not.” 

Owen quickly looked down at his chest, checking to see what shirt he had on. You couldn’t help but laugh as a relieved look fell upon his face. 

“That is not funny. I thought I was wearing your shirt.” 

“It’s flipping hilarious.” You told him, calming down and taking a bite of your food. 

“Whatever you say, babe.” Owen said before digging into his food, regardless of the fact it was warm brown mush. 

“Are we still on for date night tonight?” You asked between bites. Owen nodded, chewing hungrily.

“Yeah. I just got the bottle of tequila.”

“It’s not really a date if we just get drunk off tequila.” You pointed out before taking a long drink from your water bottle. 

“It’s totally a date, because that’s just how we roll.” He scraped the last scoop of stew out of his bowl and ate it before getting up from the table. He leaned down and gave you a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you after my shift.”

“Same.” You said, watching him leave and marvelling at just how tight and form fitting his pants were. How had he not ripped the seams yet?

Later that night in the bungalow, you shed your work clothes and opted for cleaner ones before curling up on the couch and listening to the news on the radio. Everything on the island smelled like sweat, and the bungalow was no exception. Even when the clothes were clean, they still smelled like sweat and had dirt in them. Owen's work boots thumping against the porch drew you out of your dazed state.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said today at lunch.” Owen said, ditching his vest and going into the kitchen to get the bottle of tequila and a few shot glasses. “And asked my coworkers if they thought my clothes fit.” 

“And?” You asked, taking the bottle from him and watching as he set the glasses down on the coffee table. 

“Well, they thought that it was appropriate to wear for work, but Barry did compliment me on my ‘tits’.” You couldn't help but laugh, pausing a moment from pouring the shots so you didn't spill the precious booze. 

“They are pretty magnificent.” You set the bottle down and picked up your glass, and raised it to Owen. “To your magnificent rack.” 

Owen mocked you before tilting his head back and swallowing the drink. 

“I just don’t see the problem. All the shirts I buy are my size, and sure I haven’t bought any shirts in a while, but that doesn’t mean they don’t fit. It isn’t like I’ve put on weight or anything.” He rambled. You leaned towards him on the couch, placing your hands on his shoulders before shutting him up with a kiss. 

“I really need you to shut up and just realize that your shirts are too small. No amount of discussing it with your coworkers will change that.” You whispered, pressing your forehead against his. 

Before Owen could kiss you back, you pulled away and poured another shot. You felt it would take the entire bottle to finally convince Owen that he really was a distraction in the workplace.

When you woke up, you were sleeping on your stomach wearing nothing but your panties and a shirt you had pilfered from Owen's collection, hem pushed up around your ribcage. It was too damn early in the morning, in your opinion, and your head pounded from the bottle of tequila. Of course that bottle would rear it’s ugly head, reminding you that you couldn't exactly remember the good times you had last night. But you did remember that you needed to get to work, and there was still work to do in regards to convincing Owen his clothes were too small. 

You lifted your head off the pillow, your eyes lazily surveying the bungalow for Owen. He said that he would probably leave for work early, but you knew that was a line he fed to his supervisors early last night to excuse his hangover. Fortunately for Owen, his supervisors were way too forgiving and only got pissed if he wasn't there during a crisis.

The only crisis that was happening today was the one that pounded away in your head, and you knew the same was happening to Owen. He pretended that hangovers didn't affect him, though you knew it was bullshit. 

“Good morning babe.” You heard him say, your head darting around so that you could see him enter through the porch doors. Your head wasn’t particularly fond of your heart’s decision, so you let your head collapse back onto the pillow. 

“I’m dying.” You groaned into the pillow. “Come hold me.”

You felt him as he settled into the bed, his body flush against you, his face inches from yours. You opened your eyes to find him staring at you, his eyes mesmerizing you in the morning light. 

“I don’t know about you, but my head's killing me right now.” He said, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. Your eyes drifted shut as you relaxed with him so near to you before you realized that his bare skin was pressed against yours.

“Did I steal your shirt?” You asked after a lazy few moments of silence. Owen made a noise of confusion. “You’re shirtless. Did I take your shirt?”

“Yeah.” He said after looking down at his chest. “I guess I am shirtless. You should probably stop stealing my shirts, though. I’m running out, again.”

“Maybe if you tried doing laundry…” You suggested, voice trailing off as your eyes drifted shut again. “And buying shirts that actually fit.”

Owen chuckled at your remark. “Last time I checked, you liked it. So that’s why I do it.” 

“You buy shirts a size too small because I like it.” You said incredulously. “Something tells me you like it too, or you wouldn’t do that.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before freeing yourself from his arm and reaching for the water bottle on the nightstand. You drank half the bottle quickly, the cold water feeling so refreshing. 

“I like to keep the person in my bed happy, and if that means shirts that are a size too small, so be it. You’re right, though, I do look pretty damn good in them.” You returned to Owen’s embrace, your chest against his. 

“Well you aren’t wrong.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on Deviantart.


End file.
